


No words

by becharlatan



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, HOORAY, Introvert Harry, Jock Louis, M/M, Musician Harry, Romance, Shy Harry, Strangers to Lovers, birthday fic, fluff overload, this is for my best friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-18
Updated: 2015-05-18
Packaged: 2018-03-31 04:19:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3964144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/becharlatan/pseuds/becharlatan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is a music student who never talks because he's a total introvert. Louis happens to bump into him by accident and as if like the constellations, the two have aligned their paths together despite their differences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No words

**Author's Note:**

  * For [apprehensivekitty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/apprehensivekitty/gifts).



> So this is supposed to be a birthday gift for my best friend, however, because of stress with work and other shite, I forgot to post this on her birthday. Forgive me Sammy, babe, please? I love you to bits!
> 
> The song is from Echosmith's Bright because that song is just fitting. I was going for Erik Hassle's No words (where the title came from, actually) but the feelings from Bright is way more fitting and wonderful and Larry like and I just spazzed.
> 
> This is my first ever decent 1D fic, so forgive me for my mistakes. Spare me, love! 
> 
> This is utter pure fluff.

The first time Harry meets Louis, he was almost got killed. 

He is walking at the sidewalk, on his way to his dorms when a motorcycle hits him, making him tumbling down at the end before reaching the corner. His things sprawled on the road, his pants scraped open and his lip bled like there’s no tomorrow (in man’s horror opinion even though it was just a small cut). 

Harry sits up straight, his legs feeling a bit wobbly to even stand. He looks at his palms and sees a small scratch on his left wrist. It was just a small gash but when he hears the hurried steps towards him, he wonders how awful must he really look. 

“I’m so sorry! Are you alright? Where are you hurt?” says the voice and Harry blinks because he’d never heard such a wonderful voice. It sounds to warm, like honey, fresh from the hive, draping on the bark on a wonderful spring. 

Harry falls silent. He’s hurt but he’s not mad. He’s just, well, he rather walk away. Despite his weak arms and legs, he wishes not to talk with this man, who’s worried sick at him (Harry judges by the way the man looks at him, it is as if he’s seen death) because Harry is just not good at making conversations, that’s all. 

Harry, however, whimpers when the man reaches for his bruised lip and runs a hand over his cheek. “Let me help you,” the man says and Harry nods. The man blinks at the height difference but ignores it, he’s truly worried. Once Harry is standing, he blinks at how painful his body is. 

Harry freezes when Louis crouches down to check the torn part of his jeans and spots another gash on his knee. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” the man says and Harry nods before stepping back. He spots his things and he fears that another vehicle might run over it or it might rain, or some breeze will blow it away. He can’t look directly at the man because he’s super shy and he doesn’t feel comfortable that a stranger’s touching his body, much less his knee. 

“I-it’s okay,” Harry replies quickly and small. The man stands up only to run his hand on Harry’s cheek again. He walks away and Harry feels that he should’ve done something aside from shooing him away but he doesn’t trust himself; he’ll probably bore the man to death because of his silence. Well, sort of. 

The man reaches for Harry’s things and gives it to him. Harry smiles and stands there frozen. The man gets back on his motorcycle, winds the clutch and looks at Harry one last time. He fixes his black leather jacket and brushes his hair. 

Harry feels something warm running down his spine and his heart almost falls but after a couple of seconds, the man’s view disappears and his bruised knee starts to twitch. 

He sighs as he limps his way towards his flat. 

\+ 

The second time Harry sees Louis, he gives him a heart attack. 

Harry plays with the piano in the piano room, alone. It’s past dismissal time and everyone already left, but Harry. 

He is in the middle of practicing some stanzas when the door creaks open and Harry stammers on the stool, banging the keys and letting out a loud yelp because he’s all too focused on getting the right key when he hears the door creaks slowly—like in the horror movies—that is. 

He turns around expecting Niall to scare him again but is surprised when he sees the same man (or boy, Harry thinks because he’s much younger looking right now) wearing the same black leather jacket and gold hair messy on his head. The man smiles and walks towards him. 

Harry isn’t able to speak. He’s not really good at starting conversations and seeing the beautiful man before him makes it even mores to utter letters, even sounds at least. 

“You play beautifully,” the man compliments and Harry blushes, his head tilting down making his curls bounce down against his cheeks. 

“I’m Louis,” Louis says, sitting beside Harry on the black stool, making himself all too comfortable despite the small space available. Harry slides towards the other end and glances at Louis warily. 

“…” Harry is fidgeting. 

He is starting to feel uncomfortable. He really is. Especially when Louis is sitting beside him, he can even feel his warmth and take in his beautiful, wonderful cologne. Oh no. It sounds weird. Harry shakes his thoughts and places his hands back to the piano keys. He breathes in and breathes out a little too loud that Louis chuckles beside him and leans towards his side closer. 

“Go on,” Louis says. Harry looks at the other boy and Louis is flashing his heart-warming, melting, darn-looking, magnificent smile that takes Harry away. Louis owned it. He really is marvellous and he just can’t take his eyes away off him. 

“Continue playing,” Louis says warmly and encouragingly. Too encouragingly, in Harry’s opinion but he plays nonetheless and starts dancing his fingers on the white and black keys that produce glorious sounds. 

Harry peeks at his side only to find Louis’ eyes closed and his head tilted slightly upwards. He’s enjoying the heavenly tune, cheekbones glistening under the light and eyelashes—awfully lovely—making shadows on his lids. Harry thinks he’s the most alluring human being he had ever laid eyes on. When he sees Louis opens his eyes, Harry focuses at the black piano glistening boringly before him. 

He continues to play and the room is filled with the sounds of the piano keys. He decides to peek at Louis again and is surprised when Louis is now looking at him, eyes warm and sparkling blue; lips curled in a small smile and Harry thinks, Harry thinks he looks absolutely perfect. 

\+ 

The third time he sees Louis, they were in a cafeteria. 

Harry is with Niall, discussing about the preliminary exams when Harry almost trips while on his way to the line. Niall is walking before him, blabbing about the tune he can’t quite get, completely unaware of Harry’s little mishap. 

Harry is feeling a little bit sick that day. He hasn’t gotten much rest the previous days due to trying to decide which piece to perform on the upcoming test. He feels a little wobbly, but Niall insists to grab something to eat before they spend the entire afternoon practicing. 

He almost falls, face flat on the ground when he felt an arm wraps around his waist and he blinks at the person beside him. 

Harry looks up and sees Louis, face cringed in a teasing manner but worried just like the first time they’ve met. “Hey clumsy,” Louis says and Harry blinks because _god_ Louis’ face is so heavenly. 

“Harry!” Niall’s voice breaks their stare and Harry stands up. He clears his throat and Louis places an assuring hand at his back. 

“Are you alright?” Niall asks and Harry smiles, and shrugs it off. He feels the hand of Louis against his back hot, burning and he thinks he’ll leave a mark there. 

“I-I’m f-fine,” Harry mumbles and Niall nods before looking at Louis who only pats Harry’s back. He smiles that goddamn bright smile and walks away. Harry follows him with his eyes and sees Louis grab some yoghurt and fruits before heading towards his friends (Harry thinks because they did some fist bump and bro hug thing). 

“What was that?” Niall asks after they grab their meals and head towards some table at the other side of the cafeteria. 

Harry looks at Niall with a weary set of eyes and smiles, trying to push to ignore what just happened. Niall only sighs and munches on his sandwich while Harry takes a spoonful of his strawberry yoghurt and a bite on his celery. 

That afternoon, Niall bids goodbye and reminds him to go home because he looks terrible compared awhile ago during lunch time. Harry nods, but disobeys stills, insisting he needs to get that part of the chorus perfect. 

It is almost 7 pm and Harry lets out a sneeze when he hears footsteps behind him. 

“I am almost done Niall,” Harry says as he straightens his posture and lets out another sneeze. 

“Great job then,” the voice answers and Harry freezes, because that’s not Niall’s voice—definitely not Niall’s voice. “Let me take you home.” 

Harry closes the piano lid and turns to face Louis who’s already carrying Harry’s bag and Harry looks at his things curiously before setting his eyes at Louis who’s staring at him with his ever magnificent warm smile. 

“W-what are you doing here?” Harry asks and Louis frowns at him. He steps closer towards Harry and pushes a strand at the back of Harry’s ear. Harry feels his face heat and he’s not really sure if it’s from blushing or from sickness. He doesn’t even know anymore. 

“I bumped into Niall on my way here, your classmate?” Louis says and Harry looks at him intently. He blinks when Louis places a hand on his forehead and he crouches down to face the pianist. “He said you’re sick. You’re coming down with a flu Harry, you need to go home.” 

Harry nods willingly, finding no reason to object him. Louis smiles and offers a hand. Harry looks at it first, careful that once he touches it, he’ll get even hotter, burn, even. Louis wiggles his fingers and Harry reaches out to clasp his hands with Louis’. He stands up and Louis slings the bag over his shoulder and helps Harry to walk out the room. 

Louis guides Harry on his motorcycle and Harry can feel that he’s getting smaller and tinier and even more shy as he shrinks because he’s sitting on a stranger-not-so-stranger-Louis-anymore’s motorcycle and he can’t quite really point out how weird-and-not-so-weird at the same feeling this is. 

Louis wears the helmet on Harry’s head, revealing some of the curls and Louis smiles at him. 

“You look cute,” Louis says and Harry’s face heats even more (and he doesn’t even know, because he’s already hot during Niall and his practice and then Louis appeared and his temperature just increases by the minute, he might die now out of convulsion). 

Harry sinks at the back of Louis the entire ride. He somewhat falls asleep on the way and all he can remember was the sound of the engine and the breeze that caresses his warm face. 

\+ 

It had been their habit to hang out, almost after class, in the piano room. Harry doesn’t talk that much, and Louis pays no heed. They’re somewhat comfortable having each other’s company and that seems more than enough. 

Niall sees Louis entering their building always on his way to his organisation and they would exchange few greetings and chats. Mostly about Harry. Always about Harry. 

“Is Niall your boyfriend?” Louis asks all of a sudden. He’s sitting on a chair across the piano while Harry is seated on his chair, a seat apart Louis, writing music. 

Harry snaps out of his concentration and blinks at Louis who’s staring at him with wide-patiently-waiting-for-answers eyes. He smiles and places the pen down the music sheet. 

“No,” Harry mumbles and Louis’ face brightens that Harry wants to turn into a puddle of himself because Louis is just perfect. Everything about him is just awfully, terribly perfect. 

“When will you play me your music?” Louis asks suddenly and Harry bridges his brows. He wasn’t expecting that. 

Harry doesn’t answer and Louis doesn’t push him. Harry is thankful that Louis understands. 

\+ 

Louis pulls Harry with him right after he finishes practicing that night. Harry thinks Louis is the most patient friend because he waits for him even though he does nothing while he waits. Harry finds out a couple of days ago that Harry is actually majoring in Chemical engineering and that his building is located all the way at the other end of the campus and Harry always wonders how the hell can Louis manage to squeeze in time for him. He doesn’t ask, however, he just stays quiet. 

Harry likes it when Louis would come pick him up. Sometimes he would see Louis and Niall talk but then Niall would leave for a meeting or party or even in his organisation and Harry likes it best when they’re alone in the piano room. Louis seems to fit in perfectly well and Harry likes that. 

Louis brings him in the field. The practices had ended hours ago and they’re alone. Harry blinks at him, his eyes adjusting at the little light coming from the headlight from the stage at the side of the field. 

“What are you doing?” Harry asks. Louis beams, patting the ground and instructing Harry to lie beside him. 

Harry obliges and lies beside Louis. Louis adjusts his arm and lets Harry place his head on shoulder. Harry leans closer against his chest and he swears his heart beats so fast Louis could hear it. 

Harry likes to be near Louis. He likes it very much that he wonders how would he react if Louis suddenly gets bored hanging out with him. 

Harry feels Louis’ hand play with his curls as they stare at the dark sky. When the lights had finally turned off and the noise had subsided down, Harry blinks at how the sky starts to show the stars and all constellations blinking beautifully above them. 

“It’s beautiful,” Harry breathes and he feels Louis giggles. 

It seems normal for the both of them to be tactile, mostly on Louis’ part and Harry doesn’t mind. He’s just shy how to reciprocate the touchy feely and he’s grateful that Louis doesn’t force him answers out because he’s just utterly shy. 

“It is,” Louis replies as he reaches blindly for Harry’s other hand and intertwines their fingers. “The stars are beautiful just like you,” Louis adds and Harry’s thankful that the stars aren’t bright enough to emit light because he feels his face turning red. He feels Louis’ breath ghosting against his cheek as they continue to stare at the sky, filled with stars, constellations, the moon and all dreams and wishes Harry thinks that concerns about Louis. 

Harry wants this to last. He spots a shooting star and grins as he repeats the wish in his mind. 

\+ 

It was in Harry’s flat that they’ve decided to hang out on a Friday night. Louis had insisted Harry to bring him inside because he had nothing to do. Harry was uncertain at first, because his flat has nothing entertaining and he never brought friends, only Niall, when they needed to work on music and study together. 

“Looks neat,” Louis says as they get inside and spots the piano at the middle of the room. 

“A piano, of course!” shrieks Louis, child-like. 

Harry prepares them dinner while Louis scans through a shelf full of books, photo albums and vinyls of different artists Harry listens to. Harry doesn’t really know how to entertain, because he rather compose and study on his own. When Niall is around, he does the talking and Harry only listens. However, Louis has his way to make Harry talk and Harry answers him honestly. He even answer in sentences and Louis always calls him cute whenever he speaks because Harry doesn’t usually speak. 

“Louis?” Harry mumbles after dinner and they’re both in the living room. Louis is sitting on the couch, a book in his hands and a basket of strawberries beside him. Harry is sitting on the piano stool, a few steps away Louis who’s now looking at him with sincerity. 

“Yes, Harry?” 

Harry is hesitant at first but clears his throat. “I wrote a song for you,” Harry mumbles and Louis catches his breath. He closes the book and stands up to sit beside Harry. Harry gulps and opens the lid before feeling the keys under his fingertips and starts playing. 

___I think the universe is on my side_  
_Heaven and Earth have finally aligned  
_ _Days are good and that's the way it should be_

_You sprinkle star dust on my pillow case_  
_It's like a moonbeam brushed across my face  
_ _Nights are good and that's the way it should be_

_You make me sing oh, la, la, La_  
_You make a boy go oh oh  
_ _I'm in love, love_

_Did you see that shooting star tonight?_  
_Were you dazzled by the same constellation?_  
_Did you and Jupiter conspire to get me?_  
_I think you and the Moon and Neptune got it right_  
_'Cause now I'm shining bright, so bright  
_ _Bright, so bright_

Harry stops and looks at Louis who’s suddenly in tears. Harry worries and leans towards Louis with a concerned look. 

“Lou,” Harry says, affectionate and it’s first time that he actually reaches out to caress Louis’ cheek. Louis catches his hand and shock fills in Harry when Louis kisses his fingertips one by one. 

Harry blushes but stays still and panic suddenly is replaced by surprise when Louis place a hand on the back of Harry’s neck and pulls him to crash his lips against Harry’s soft and cold lips. Harry melts. He simply melts as he closes his hand with Louis’ and places his other free hand against Louis’ chest. 

It was unequalled. The kiss. Louis. The song. Harry. Everything. 

After a while, Louis pulls away only to crash his forehead against Harry’s and Harry brushes the tears off Louis’ cheeks. 

“That was beautiful Harry,” Louis says and Harry smiles. 

“It was really beautiful,” Louis adds as he leans in to give Harry another passionate kiss. 

\+ 

It took Louis a month to tell Harry ‘I love you’. 

It took Harry 6 months for him to tell Louis ‘I love you too’. 

“Sometimes I wonder,” Niall breaks one day, as they sit beside the stool and play with the piano keys. They’re on their second year and it was Louis’ fourth year in the university. 

“Wonder what?” 

“How an innocent curly haired like you,” Niall says as he continues to play with he black keys and Harry plays with the white keys. “…manages to steal the university’s sex god.” 

Harry blinks and he looks at Niall who snorts at him with ‘What? I’m just curious, ya know?’. 

Harry wonders about it a lot, too. He thinks of all the possibilities, the probabilities and how on earth everything happened but Louis always assures him not to think about the things that will make him uncomfortable. Louis always tells him that everything is fine as they are and Harry believes him. 

They are in Harry’s—their—flat after class when Harry sits on the bed and Louis looks at him through a book he’s reading. Harry scoots closer and looks at Louis who is now smiling at him. 

“Lou?” Harry stutters and Louis waits for him to finish. He leans against the headboard properly and stretches his legs on the bed. 

“Aren’t you even bored with me?” 

Louis frowns and tilts his head. He looks at Harry with concern and Harry pouts at him, his curls hanging wonderfully against his cheeks. Louis moves to pull Harry towards him and let the younger sink in his arm. He wraps his arms around Harry and the younger leans against his chest. 

“No, why would I be?” 

Harry leans closer and looks up to face Louis. Louis brushes a strand off his face and looks at him. “I—I never talk, Lou.” 

Louis smiles and runs his thumb over Harry’s cheekbones. “It doesn’t matter, Harry.” 

"I'm worried," Harry continues. 

“About what?” 

“You might get tired of me,” Harry says, he looks at Louis with much care and wonder and fear and fright and Louis just stares back at him lovingly, adoringly, mesmerisingly—Harry doesn’t even know anymore. “You might leave.” 

Louis smiles at him and Harry melts again. “I love you just the way you are,” Louis replies and he kisses his forehead, his cheeks, his eyelids and his lips--assuring Harry, making him feel that there’s nothing to worry about and that he’ll never leave him. 

Harry smiles and leans into the warmth. He hugs Louis tighter and whispers the words, _I love you_ straight to Louis’ lips so Louis can have it.


End file.
